


outrun my gun

by biblionerd07



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt Sam Wilson, Hurt/Comfort, Mission Fic, Multi, POV Sam Wilson, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-07 23:37:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11069448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biblionerd07/pseuds/biblionerd07
Summary: After Sam gets hurt on a mission, Steve and Bucky spill some truths about how important he is to them.





	outrun my gun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iwillnotbecaged](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillnotbecaged/gifts), [camwolfe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/camwolfe/gifts).



“Cap, behind you!” Sam yells into the comm, heading into a dive. Steve’s got a HYDRA goon on his tail and is busy dealing with the two in front of him. Bucky grunts into their earpieces and then a bullet sends the guy creeping up on Steve to the ground. Sam gets close enough to kick one of the others in the head, and Steve finally knocks out the other.

“Took you long enough,” Steve pants.

“Excuse me? You’re superhuman and you couldn’t handle two guys at once?”

“Oh, he can,” Bucky says in their ears, smirk audible. “Wait’ll we get home and we’ll show you.”

Sam snorts. “Promises, promises.”

“Buck, meet us at the rendezvous point?” Steve asks, flipping his shield onto his back.

“10-4.”

They get the HYDRA guys secured and ready for T’Challa’s pickup. He can’t always come with them to do the ass-kicking—being king of a country means he has to respect borders like a loser, while their status as international fugitives means they can bust in wherever they want—but he always has the contacts for disposal. It’s nice not having to schlep three Nazis with them out of the country.

“I’m hungry,” Steve whines as they start walking. Sam pulls up his goggles so Steve can see him roll his eyes.

“Of course you are.”

“I have an enhanced metabolism,” Steve reminds him in his smuggest voice.

“You have an enhanced attitude,” Sam shoots back. Steve mutters something that sounds suspiciously like _takes one to know one_ under his breath and Sam can’t help but laugh. Steve shoots him a triumphant smirk before laughing himself, his whole face lighting up. Suddenly he freezes, flinging an arm out to stop Sam. Sam stops immediately. Steve’s hearing can pick up way more than Sam’s.

“Buck,” Steve says, hardly making a sound. “Think we got company out here.”

“On my way,” Bucky responds tersely.

“Where?” Sam breathes. He starts inching his hand toward his side-arm, not wanting to set off whoever’s watching them.

“Four o’clock, I think.” Steve’s shifting minutely, getting ready to grab his shield. Then he apparently decides subtlety is useless and grabs his shield, hurling it toward the trees. They hear a thud, and then bullets start flying.

“Get down!” Steve orders.

“How about I get up?” Sam counters, starting to run for his takeoff.

“No!” Steve yells back. “We don’t know where they are or how many.”

“So we need an aerial view.”

“I see four,” Bucky reports. After a beat, he adds smugly, “Three.”

“Not so bad,” Steve says with a shrug. “Buck, you got eyes on?”

“Yep, they’re about ten yards out from you. I can get ‘em all.”

“Do it fast,” Steve requests. He gestures toward Sam. “Come get behind this while Buck does his thing.”

Sam pulls a face, but he doesn’t argue. It’ll take longer for Sam to get airborne than it will for Bucky to just take all three out. They hear another thud, so they’re down to two. Sam’s zigzagging back to Steve when Steve suddenly yells his name and throws the shield to him.

“What?” Sam asks, arm coming up automatically to catch it. A bullet pings off it. Oh. That’s what. “How the fuck did you even see that?”

“Keep it up!” Steve orders, wheeling around with his gun raised.

“Don’t fire blind,” Bucky barks. “I’m up here. There must be more on your six. I’m relocating.”

“You got the other ones?”

“ _You got the other ones_?” Bucky mimics. “Gotta do all the work around here. I only got _one_ arm, you know.”

“Well, hurry up, they’re shooting at Sam,” Steve points out.

“I’ve got one down. Only one left,” Bucky reports. “They’re just desperate at this point.”

“I knew I should’ve just flown home,” Sam says, feeling like an idiot crouching behind Steve’s shield. But he’s a very human idiot, and he already made plans to see his mom at Christmas. He’s not risking that.

“Sam!” Bucky’s suddenly screaming. “Move!”

Sam doesn’t even have time to think before Steve’s yanking him sideways. The bullet that probably would’ve gone into his chest instead lodges into his side. Steve’s screaming, Bucky’s screaming in their ear, and then Sam could swear he hears other people screaming.

“Fucking son of a bitch!” Bucky’s yelling.

“Fucking kill them!” Steve yells back.

“Fuck,” Sam murmurs, and then he passes out.

 

He wakes up in Wakanda, which is weird, because he definitely did not pass out there. He shouldn’t have been out long enough to get back to Wakanda, not unless something went seriously, seriously wrong.

“He’s awake!” He hears Steve cry, and then his whole vision fills with anxious super-soldiers.

“Sam!” Bucky says, grabbing a hand. Steve purses his lips but settles on pressing a hand on Sam’s chest. Sam blinks over at his other hand. Oh. An IV. That’s why Steve’s stroking Sam’s collarbone instead of just holding his hand.

It feels nice, though, so Sam doesn’t complain.

“Wh’appened?” Sam manages to ask. Whatever pain medicine they’ve got him on is beautiful. If it were a person, he’d kiss it. But it’s drugs.

“Left you open and you got shot,” Bucky replies tersely. “I’m sorry.”

“’S okay,” Sam promises, finding his bearings enough to tap his thumb against Bucky’s hand.

“We killed them,” Steve tells him. “All of them.”

“Murder?” Sam says. “For me? Romance.”

Bucky’s face is blank and cold. That’s never a good sign. He’s probably freaking out. Steve, on the other hand, is biting his lips, balling up his free hand into a fist, breathing hard. He’s _definitely_ freaking out.

“Wakanda?” Sam asks.

“T’Challa got us here.”

“Put me out?” They both look mystified for a second. Sam huffs, frustrated. “Didn’t wake up.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, getting it first. “You did. We just drugged you fast so you wouldn’t remember.”

“You were screaming,” Steve says softly.

Sam hums. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Steve says fiercely. Too fierce. He should have some of Sam’s drugs. Calm him down. Except they probably wouldn’t work on Steve. Too bad. They’re nice.

“We’re gonna take care of you,” Bucky promises. “When the doctors let you out.”

“Okay,” Sam agrees. That sounds good. His friends are nice. “Sleepy.”

“Yeah, just rest,” Steve soothes, reaching up to stroke Sam’s cheek. _Whoa_. That feels so good. Sam wants him to keep his hand there, but he can’t open his mouth to say anything. He can’t keep his eyes open. Maybe they drugged him again. He doesn’t even care. The last thing he sees before slipping back under is Bucky’s blank mask slipping into distress. Oops.

 

When Sam wakes up again, he’s actually awake this time. He can’t feel the pain, but he’s a hell of a lot more lucid. Steve’s slumped over on the bed, crushing Sam’s hand beneath his giant forehead. Bucky’s back to stone-faced, sitting ramrod straight in his chair and watching Sam like he thinks someone’s going to kidnap him.

“Now there’s an intimidating sight,” Sam says. “What’s got you all kill-face?”

Bucky gives him an incredulous look. “I let you get shot.”

Sam stretches cautiously, making sure to take it easy on his side. “Nah.”

“Nah?” Bucky echoes. “It was my job to—”

“We thought the job was done,” Sam points out. “We were heading back to the rendezvous. What, your job is to be psychic now?”

“If I had gotten there sooner,” Bucky starts.

“Sure,” Sam agrees. “Or if you’d gotten there later, I’d be dead. Maybe Steve, too.”

“You don’t heal like we do,” Bucky says stubbornly. “We have to watch out for you more.”

Sam wrinkles his eyebrows. “I know you did not just say you have to baby me.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “No, that’s not what I said.”

“Listen, I appreciate that you’re watching my back extra hard. You might not know this, but I’m not quite as strong as you guys.”

Bucky snorts. “I know it.”

Sam uses the hand Steve’s not drooling on to flip Bucky off. “But me being human can’t keep you from doing your job.”

“You being human?” Bucky asks, confused.

“You just said I don’t heal like you do.”

“Yeah…” Bucky says slowly. “But that’s not the only reason we watch out for you more.”

“What?” Sam asks.

Bucky tilts his head, quiet for a minute. “You know that if I have to watch out for Steve or watch out for anyone else, I’d pick Steve, right?”

A little pang shoots through Sam, but he ignores it. “Yeah.” Everyone knows that.

“You, too.”

Sam blinks. “Huh?”

Bucky licks his lips. “I look out for you and Steve. And then I look out for everyone else.”

“You look out for Steve because he’s Steve,” Sam says. Maybe his brain’s not quite back online yet or something. He feels like he’s missing something.

“And I look out for you because you’re you,” Bucky says simply.

Sam is sure Bucky’s not saying what it sounds like he’s saying. “No, I know, but…no, that’s not…”

“Sam.” Steve’s head pops up off the bed and Sam jumps a little. Which doesn’t hurt, because of the drugs, but Sam winces reflexively. If Sam’s reflexes were at 100%, he probably would’ve just drop-kicked Steve. Which only would’ve hurt Sam’s foot, probably. Steve’s smiling weirdly at him. Soft. “He’s saying we love you.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam says suspiciously. “I love you too, but that’s—”

“ _Sam_ ,” Steve admonishes. He laces his fingers through Sam’s and reaches up with his other hand to touch Sam’s cheek again. Oh, yeah, Sam remembers that from earlier. Good stuff. “We _love_ you.”

“We’re _in_ love with you,” Bucky adds. That’s actually a really helpful addition, and Sam feels like _maybe_ they could’ve led with that.

“Oh,” he says stupidly. “Like…kissing.”

“Hopefully,” Steve agrees, nodding like he’s proud Sam’s finally catching on. Kind of rude. Sam got shot…some amount of time ago. He realizes he has no idea how long ago. Did he have surgery? Does he have stitches? Does Wakanda have some super advanced medical procedure that eliminates the need for stitches?

“Sam?” Bucky asks. Oh, yeah. They’re having a conversation. Maybe Sam’s not quite as lucid as he thought.

“What was the last thing you said?” Sam asks. This part’s just a test. He remembers, but he wants to see if they’ll repeat it. Maybe they’re pranking him and if he can’t remember they’ll feel bad and give it up.

“Kissing,” Bucky says, voice low in a way that cuts right through the drugs. Hello there. Bucky’s face is suddenly really close, but not close enough to reach. Sam waits with his eyes closed and is just sitting there for a second. He cracks an eye open.

“Thought you said kissing,” Sam accuses. “You sorta implied you were gonna do it.”

Bucky grins at him, the big one with full teeth and everything, and Sam’s knees would be weak if he were standing up. “Wanted to make sure you’re up for it.”

“I _am_ ,” Sam says emphatically. “In all the ways.” Bucky snorts, but he leans in obligingly and gives Sam a kiss. It’s kind of tentative, in a sweet way, and Sam almost wants to cry. When they pull apart, Steve’s watching them with wide eyes and his hands folded in his lap, biting his lip. Sam can’t tell if he’s turned on or if he kinda wants to cry too.

“You next?” Sam asks. Steve almost falls over himself to get close, and his kiss is longer, surer of himself. Funny. Sam’s willing to bet money that’s a bit of a role-reversal with Bucky. Steve puts his hand on Sam’s cheek again. God, that’s good. Sam’s ready to get used to that. Steve pulls away and Sam would follow him if he could sit up.

“Kissing’s good,” Sam says, and even he can hear how dreamy he sounds. If he weren’t pumped full of drugs, he’d be a lot smoother right now.

“Kissing is good,” Steve agrees. “Good, Bucky?”

“Real good,” Bucky assures them both. “Great, even.”

“You two can kiss now,” Sam allows.

“Can we?” Bucky asks snottily. “You’re so kind.”

“Right here,” Sam orders. Maybe he can be bossy and pass it off on the drugs. He gestures to the space right in front of his face.

“How we gonna kiss right there?” Bucky asks skeptically.

“We’d have to be on top of you,” Steve points out.

“Yeah?” Sam says. “And?”

Steve laughs. “And you got shot, bud.”

“I’m on drugs.”

Steve leans in closer and kisses the side of Sam’s mouth, then leans up to get his forehead. “Yeah, so maybe we’ll save a lot of big stuff until you’re not,” he suggests. “For now, you just rest. We’ll stay here and take care of you.”

Sam’s reaching blindly, unwilling to move his face from Steve’s to see what he’s looking for, but Bucky moves over and takes his hand. Perfect. That’s exactly what he was looking for.

“Alright,” he mumbles, tired out again already. Well, in his defense, he had two great kisses. That can take a lot out of a guy, especially a guy who may or may not have stitches. He’d look, but he’s really comfortable.

“I thought maybe we could ask T’Challa if they got any bigger beds in this med tent,” Bucky says. “Then we could get up there with you and cuddle.”

Sam almost sits up in his vehement agreement with this plan, but Steve keeps a gentle hand on his chest to keep him down. “Yeah!” Sam says excitedly. “I like cuddling.”

“Good,” Bucky says, nuzzling his nose along Sam’s hairline. They’re both really close to him. And to each other. It’s like a dream come true. Minus the getting shot and the IV and the drugs part. Well, maybe some drugs. Just for fun. What’s the point of being on the run from the law if you can’t smoke some weed while you’re at it?

“We’ll get that taken care of while you go back to sleep,” Steve says. “Okay?”

“But how’m I gonna get in the new bed if I’m asleep?” Sam asks. He might be slurring a little. He’s fading.

“I’ll lift you up,” Steve promises.

“Oh, goddamn,” Sam breathes. “If I wasn’t on drugs that’d be hot.”

Bucky barks out a laugh. “He can do it again when you’re not on drugs.”

“Yeah, baby, that’s it,” Sam murmurs. His eyes are still open enough to see Steve go bright red. He laughs as well as he can, but he knows he’s out of it. “You like that?”

“Oh, he liked that,” Bucky confirms, laughing.

“You like it?” Sam asks Bucky. Bucky licks his lips. Yeah, he liked it. But Sam’s eyes close before Bucky can respond. That’s not very polite, but Sam can’t really help it. He hears one of them huff before he falls asleep again. Damn. Things were getting good.

 

When Sam wakes up, the whole room is dark, and he’s got Steve on one side and Bucky on the other. Steve’s got his arm around Sam’s chest, high enough not to bother his wound, and Sam’s head is resting on Bucky’s shoulder. He sighs contentedly. Oh, yeah. He could definitely get used to this.


End file.
